David Hagerman: The Ferry Boats of Istanbul

Photo © David Hagerman-All Rights Reserved
David Hagerman attended The Foundry Photojournalism Workshop in Istanbul and produced an evocative audio slideshow titled The Ferry Boats of Istanbul, which he just published on his blog.

Yes, Istanbul is the city of Sultanahmet Camii, the Aya Sofya, the Kapalı Çarşı, but it's also the Bosphorus ferries that characterize it. These ferries provide vital links between different areas of that magnificent city, connecting the European and the Asian coastline. The first steam ferries appeared on the Bosphorus in 1837, were operated by private sector companies and currently carry approximately 61 million passengers yearly.

It is these that Dave decided to document. The audio slideshow with its glowing images and ambient sound will transport you in such ferries...the sound of the turnstiles, the sirens, the voices of the passengers, and even the clink of the spoon in tea glasses that are served on ferries...all ambient sound intelligently selected to provide a complete visual and aural experience of these Istanbuli fixtures.

David Hagerman is a photographer based in Kuala Lumpur and Penang in Malaysia, whose work has appeared in publications such as The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal Asia, Saveur, Budget Travel, Travel & Leisure SEA, The Chicago Tribune, South China Morning Post, Time Out KL, and Lonely Planet guidebooks. His work is also featured on the very popular Eating Asia blog.

POV: Moises Saman And Cairo Undone

Photo © Moises Saman-All Rights Reserved  
How wrong I was! I always dismissed the idea of photographing street life in Cairo by saying that there was nothing to photograph there...not much color, no vibrancy....but that began to change after the January Revolution. Was it a subconscious rejection of the then-prevailing environment? Or simply because I was blase about photographing in my own backyard...albeit one that I left for more than 30 years? Was it both? Perhaps.

That admission being made, I have to clarify that I speak only of street life rather than particular cultural subject matters, such as documenting Sufi rituals such as those I photographed a few years ago.

What changed my mind is the brilliant photo essay in The New York Times titled Cairo Undone by Moises Saman.  The photo essay (it's really a gallery as there's no storyline nor timeline) is of snapshots (I use this term very respectfully) of daily life in Cairo...the gritty, the edgy, the incomprehensible, the political and the anachronisms that dominate this teeming city.

I intended to post this as soon as I saw the photographs, but I was in Siem Reap and just couldn't find the time. I have viewed and re-viewed this work many times, and it revived in me a hunger to document facets of this city. Is it a nostalgic yearning? I doubt it...I don't think that way. It's similar to my documenting the Sufi rituals in various countries...that is nothing more than an intellectual and aesthetic pursuit.

It's the same for Cairo...nothing more nothing less. But time will tell.

Miguel Ángel Sánchez: Portraits Of Egyptians

Photo ©  Miguel Ángel Sánchez-All Rights Reserved

Since elections are going full steam ahead in Egypt, The New York Times' Lens blog has featured Portraits of Egyptians, a series of wonderful photographs by the talented Miguel Ángel Sánchez.

I absolutely love seeing photographic work of that nature...ethnographic to a large extent, and produced by borrowing the techniques of the Old Masters. Miguel Ángel Sánchez photographed 110 residents of Cairo in his studio; these included musicians, painters, politicians, writers, bloggers, shoeshiners, doormen, and the vendor of flowers above, which is absolutely my favorite amongst all of them. My least favorite is that of Zahi Hawass, the ex-Minister of Antiquities, not because of the image but because of the man himself. I don't know the man, but I developed an antipathy for his brash behavior and loudness in National Geographic television specials (as an example).

You will not find the photograph of the flower vendor on the Lens blog, but rather it's on Miguel Ángel Sánchez website. The flowers she's seen selling are jasmine, which are popular in Egypt for the powerful sweet smell. I believe the jasmine flowers sold on string strands are called "fol", and are popular in Egypt to deodorize one's car or to gift to one's sweetheart while strolling the city's gardens.

But back to the LENS blog...a comment was rather critical of the photographer for choosing to depict the Egyptians in Renaissance settings. I disagree. In choosing the lighting and poses similar to those we have seen so many times in museums and galleries the photographer creates acceptability for his subjects to the Western eye.

Siem Reap Journal: Issue #5

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

Well, all good things have to come to an end. The Angkor Photo Festival's closing night included an intriguing photo talk by Roger Ballen, and the results of the 2011 Angkor Photo Workshops.

The award for the best photo story produced during the workshop was given to Carrie Lam*, a Singaporean photographer, for Cure...an ethereal collection of images. Her workshop tutor was Magnum photographer Antoine d'Agata.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention Francoise Callier and Jean-Yves Navel, who overwhelmed me (and many others) with their cordiality, and gracious hospitality during every night of the Festival, as well as the hard work of both Camille Plante and Jessica Lim which made a success of this Festival.

So thank you very much for a great event!

*I didn't find a website for Carrie Lam.

Global Post: Egypt's Women Of Revolution

Photo © Elizabeth D. Herman-All Rights Reserved

While I'm here in Siem Reap, I am following the events in Cairo with mixed feelings...feelings of pride and anxiety. The outcome of the 'rebooted' Egyptian revolution is impossible to predict, but some pundits have describe the current events in Tahrir Square as Egyptians trying to reclaim their January 25 revolution from the military.

There are a number of recent photo essays from Tahrir Square, but I thought I'd feature the work of Global Post's Elizabeth D. Herman titled Egypt: Women of the Revolution.

This is a compelling gallery of 18 photographs along with captions that tell us the back stories of each photograph. Last month, Elizabeth Herman spoke to 13 Egyptian women about the media’s coverage of women’s involvement in the Egyptian revolution. Their roles were varied, as were their experiences and reactions to the revolution, with some having actively joined the movement and others forced to do so by circumstance. All have much to say about how it has affected their lives, and how their experiences are similar to — and different from —those of other Egyptian women.

As is customary whenever readers' comments on the news of the Egyptian revolution appear in The New York Times, Islamophobia and political agendas raise their ugly heads. Comments describing the Egyptian revolutionaries as 'savages', and others hoping that the upheaval would not harm Israel (presumably this being much more important than Egyptians having basic human rights) are sent to the newspaper and published without consideration.

And, of course...we have some of the US press indulging the American proclivity for inward introspection, narcissism, and insularity. Just take a look at TIME's cover for its US edition as compared to the rest of the world's.


Both hilarious and sad at the same time.

Siem Reap Journal:Issue #4

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

The Angkor Photo Festival is continuing its momentum, with today's penultimate night including a slideshow of the 5 finalists and the result of the inaugural Reminders Project Asian Photographers Grant. One of my favorite photographers, Shiho Fukada, is one of these five.

Since it's Friday, I dropped by the Siem Reap solitary mosque to explore whether there's anything worthwhile to document. Each Muslim community in Cambodia has a hakem who leads the community and the mosque, an imam who leads the prayers, and a bilal (as in Bilal, the Prophet Muhammad's muezzin) who calls the faithful to the daily prayers.

I met a few of the community members, one of whom spoke a reasonably fluent Arabic. While some of the Cham go to study the Qur'an at Kelantan in Malaysia, he learned it in Phnom Penh.

The two children were running around in the mosque, and the boy in particular was a bundle of energy.

Siem Reap Journal: Issue #3


Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

I've got a few things to talk about in this post, so here goes:

The opening of the Angkor Photo Festival was covered in yesterday's The Phnom Post which marveled that the front lawn of the Foreign Correspondent Club was packed with photographers, photojournalists and guests.

I was happy that Rahman Roslan, a photojournalist from Malaysia, who told the story of Nur, a young Indonesian woman returning home after suffering five years of abuse as a domestic worker in Malaysia, was quoted to say that Angkor workshops hadn’t just improved his style, but had changed his entire life.

I was also thrilled that Francoise Callier, the festival program director and curator, was quoted as saying “I wanted to focus on young photographers for this show, although there are some more established shooters in there too, like Tewfic El-Sawy."


I have also used my new iPhone to snap (and snap is the exact word for it) pictures of whatever takes my visual fancy, and I must say I find this to be very gratifying and entertaining, especially when using Instagram and Hipstamatic filters. That being said, I found it very useful when photographing people here. I can show these images to whoever I snapped, and it's an instant icebreaker. The iPhone is not threatening....everybody recognizes it's a phone, and the young and old take delight in choosing which filter to apply to their portrait, and in flipping from one image to the other.  At that point, they are ready to be photographed and photographed and re-photographed!

I'll be writing about this when I have more time.

Siem Reap Journal: Issue #2

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved


Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

I recently switched over from Blackberry to the iPhone 4s just for it's camera capabilities, and where else to put it through its paces than in Siem Reap?

Here are a few of photographs made on the iPhone using Instagram and Hipstamatic filters of young monks at the old temples of Roluos, Preah Ko and Lolei.

And one of Angkor Wat itself and the reflecting pond.

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

Siem Reap Journal

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

It was a good move to arrive early at the opening of the Angkor Photo Festival last night. Held at the Foreign Correspondents Club (known locally by its acronym FCC), it quickly filled up with almost 400 people to watch the projected slideshows of some 21 photographers. The slideshows included The Mercy Project/Inochi by James Whitlow Delano, Nishant Ratnakar's Fistful of Dreams, Nur by Rahman Roslan, Kauser Haider's A Hall Full of Cinema and my own The Possessed of Hazrat Mira Datar.

I introduced myself to Francoise Callier, the indefatigable energy behind the festival and its curator. I also met Jean-Yves Navel, the co-founder and director of the festival, as well as Camille Plante and Jessica Lin, both indispensable to the success of the festival for a number of years. The photo slideshows were all highly impressive, and the large audience was held in rapt attention.

Tonight saw the second installment of the slideshow program of about 13 photographers which included Whale Hunting In Lamalera by Ardiles Rante, Wendy Marijnissen's Dr Musarat, and ended with the lengthy Exodus by Sebastiao Salgado.

The photograph above is of one of the caretakers at Wat Bo, and has nothing to do with Angkor Photo Festival...but I thought it would be appropriate to feature it for a post on Siem Reap.

Another bit of information: I have yet to use my Canon 5D2. All I carried and used since my arrival in Siem Reap is the M9 and a couple of lenses.

In Focus: Bhutan

Photo © Paula Bronstein-All Rights Reserved

In Focus, the photo blog of The Atlantic, is always a must-see for me. This week, it features the photographs of Adrees Latif, Paula Bronstein, Singye Wangchuk, Kevin Frayer and others of the Kingdom of Bhutan.

As most know, Bhutan is a small Himalayan country east of Nepal, nestled between China and India, with an estimated population of 700,000. It's one of my favored destination for my photo-expeditions, and for many good reasons. It's a gorgeous country, with incredible religious and cultural traditions that are both mesmerizing and extremely photogenic. Its people are some of the most gracious and hospitable I've ever met, and I've never been disappointed in the image inventory I return with from my trips there.

If viewing the photographs on the In Focus photo-blog whets your appetite from more imagery of Bhutan, you can visit some of my own galleries and audio slideshow.

These are The Dancing Monks of Bhutan, Buddha's Apprentices and Cham!...but be warned, you might well decide to book your flights to Bhutan soon afterward.

Siem Reap For The Angkor Photo Festival

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy- All Rights Reserved

I'm thrilled to be in Siem Reap to attend the 7th Angkor Photo Festival. Posters of the event can be seen in many places of the town, as this one in Pub Street. I duly bought kramas (the traditional Cambodian scarf) and already have a tuk-tuk driver who claims he's the 'best' in Siem Reap. We'll see about that in due course.

More news on the festival will be posted soon. Its opening night is tomorrow evening, when my own work will be shown.

Ron Mayhew: Durga Puja



Ron Mayhew is one of the participants in my Kolkata's Cult of Durga Photo Expedition/Workshop, and also produced a wonderful documentary of the Durga Puja festival. Ron managed to complete his audio slideshow the quickest amongst the other group members...not that it was a race by any means, but it highlights his commitment.

He also uploaded the audio slideshow on his own blog. I recommend you watch it here as it's better quality/higher resolution than on Vimeo.

In his own words: "Durga Puja, the Hindu festival honoring the Goddess Durga in Calcutta, India, is a kaleidoscopic series of events spread over many days that tends to overwhelm ones senses with its sights and sounds. Thousands of idols of Durga and her entourage are created, worshiped, and ultimately immersed in the Ganges River. Millions of people celebrate what has been compared to Mardi Gas in New Orleans or Carnival in Rio."

Ron Mayhew has been a professional wood sculptor for over twenty years, and it’s this artistic background which has helped him achieve recognition regionally and internationally in photo competitions. He received Best of Show in the 2010 and 2011 Photo Expo sponsored by the Photo Arts Group of Charlotte County, Florida, recognized in a British Worldwide Photography contest for portrait & people, received a gold award for his image of African Eyes, a photo taken in a Tanzanian school, and was awarded a first place in the Art League of Fort Myers Art of Photography Show. He is a member of the NAPP, National Association of Photoshop Professionals and NPPA, National Press Photographers Association.

Book: Eric de Vries: STREET




By the time this post is published, I should be flying to Siem Reap (via Abu Dhabi then Bangkok) arriving on the 17th November around midday. So it appears timely to introduce a photo book on Cambodia by Dutch photographer Eric de Vries. Perhaps he'll be attending the Angkor Photo Festival as well.

STREET is all about street photography. All pictures were taken during Eric's courses, private tours and workshops in 2011. The photographs are mostly in black and white except for the complete series 'Darkness of the White Building'. This is Eric's fifth book (220 pages, landscape) and is part one of the trilogy THE WORKS OF ERIC DE VRIES.

Eric de Vries lives and works in Cambodia, the country he’s been travelling to since 2000. He is currently working on two long-term projects called ‘Still Life in Khmer Style’ that covers landscapes, temple scenes and buddha statues and ‘Hello Darling’, which is about the girlbars in the towns of Cambodia.

Interestingly, Eric's website lists Hanuman Tourism Cambodia, which is affiliated to the hotel I am staying at in Siem Reap. It also organized some of my photo shoots when I led a photo expedition to Siem Reap in February 2006.

Kishor K. Sharma: The Rautes of Nepal

Photos © Kishor K. Sharma - All Rights Reserved

Seeing this on my Facebook page made me break my traveling 'omerta'...it's a gallery titled Living In The Mist: The Last Nomads of Nepal by photographer Kishor Sharma.

According to an entry in Wikipedia, the Raute people are a nomadic ethnic group of Nepal. They are known especially for their hunting of langur and macaque monkeys for subsistence, and gather wild forest tubers, fruits, and greens on a regular basis, but do no farming. For grain, they trade handmade wooden bowls and boxes to local farmers. It's estimated that the Raute nomads do not exceed 200.

The Rautes emphasize that they wish to remain full-time foragers and have no wish to assimilate into the surrounding farming population.

Kishor K. Sharma, is a self-taught photographer/photojournalist based in Kathmandu. He completed his studies in Business, and joined the College of Journalism and Mass Communication in Kathmandu to pursue Master’s degree in Mass Communication and Journalism. He was invited to attend the 2010 Angkor Photography Workshop and took workshops with Antoine d'Ágata, Philip Blenkinshop and Munem Wasif, among others.

Kadambari – The mysterious one….

I started on this topic by chance. The plan was to get to the origin of a particular song. The song was one that I had previously written about, sung by the person I covered then, the sonorous Kozhikode Abdul Khader. The song being Padan orthoru madhurita ganam….as the words went ‘The sweet song that I wanted to sing’…..I knew that it was the 13th poem from Gitanjali. It was no mystery that it came to the Malayalee singer’s lips, for in those days much was borrowed from Bengali writings. Malayalees found emotional and intellectual attachment to Bengalis and what Bengali’s wrote. Books were eagerly devoured; many were promptly translated and discussed in mehfils and clubs and sometimes in the press. Tagore was a revered writer in Kerala and his books and poems have been available in stores since ages. I think it was G Sanakara Kurup who first translated his Gitanjali.

Anyway that song again came into my memories and soon the story behind it had caught me by the throat and I was researching it with gusto, wandering about the 3rd and 5th floors of NCSU Davis hall libraries in search of material and sources.

Until then, I had not bothered to get into the details of Tagore’s personal life, nor had I seen Ray’s Charulatha. Soon I did and dove to depths that I had not believed I would, for the story was enthralling. The mysterious lady at the centre of it all still refused to come out and show her true self and I found that as her family had wanted, she would always remain an apparition, a maid of the mist so to speak. But after so many books and articles, I got a brief and general idea and so friends, here we go, to a period long ago, a period when children were children and adolescents were adolescents and when joint family was the norm. Simple, don’t you think? Only it never was. It was far too complicated.

Tagore himself wrote sentences and poems and books and even mentioned that his story can be found between the words and sentences, if a person who could understand looked deep. But translations are not always perfect, and I knew that Gitanjali has moved people so deeply that even Bulunt Ecevit the Turkish premier learned Sanskrit (or was it Bengali) to enjoy it better and later translated it into Turkish. The people of Bengal have covered Tagore’s personal angle though not tackling it head on, so many times in the press and in books, some have fictionalized it, some have guessed the reasons and as I said before a great film maker even put to celluloid the story of that relationship, basing it on Tagore’s own novel Nashta Nir or “the Broken nest’.

A good writer uses his own experiences many a time to draw a caricature of the protagonist and the other characters of the movies, or to set the scene, and this was a classic case in Nashta Nir. Even today Bengali’s argue at length and with great passion supporting either the she or the he in this story. But for those who wonder what it is all about, here goes…I will not dwell too much on Tagore and his accomplishments for that is all available in text on various media, but for those who want to know about his muse, about the very essence of his early life, the reasons behind his early creative output, look no further, and try to get to know Kadambari Devi. I will not make judgments or conclusions, but will definitely provide my leanings & inclinations, for we are talking about human beings, much like us, though greatly and brilliantly talented. By being a genius does not elevate one to any special moral and godly pedestal and as some great people state it in simple words, it is simple and basic human actions, inactions and mis-actions which come out as an artiste’s work to enthrall us. This therefore is the story of Kadamabari born exactly a hundred years before me…..as I understood it.

We go to a mansion in Calcutta called Jorasanko Thakurbari, and into the hallways of the large house. The grandfather, the patriarch (a stony hearted Zamindar) Dwarakanath had amassed a fortune and a fiefdom from his Indigo and opium cultivation with the British and had established his large image. The son, however, though fathering a 15 member lineage, was not into successful business but was more involved with creating the Brahmo Samaj. It is to his joint family that we will pay a visit. It is situated at the Chittaranjan Ave and Dwarakanath Tagore intersection in Calcutta. The sprawling mansion, as Chitralekha Basu from the China Daily once wrote, branching out into several wings, cradling a largish courtyard illuminated by its dazzling white walls, is still pillar-box red in most parts, contrasting dramatically with the forest green on the foliage, and the wooden rails holding the ornamental grills, girdling the never-ending balconies.

Today that house has many rooms open to the public and is tastefully decorated. You will, as you walk around, find a room which is dedicated to Tagore and Mrinalini, his wife, and then the guide, if you had one that is, has finished his tour, would mention that there is a room which remains locked, an attic room. That was Kadambari’s abode. It is not open to public, but there was a time when it was the world for Robi (Rabindranath) and older brother (Jyothirindranath) and Jyothirmoy’s wife Kadambari who was roughly the same age as Rabi. The terrace where the girl bride made a small roof garden, was where Robi started out with his poetry and where Kadamabri listened to them and provided ample criticism, goading the young talent to greater and greater heights. Jyothirmoy, though 12 years older, was his mentor in many ways and initiated Robi into the world of music, thus forming a threesome intensely involved in reading, creating poetry and music. I am starting out with three young people now, not a hallowed Nobel Prize winner and his secrets, and is deliberate in not accepting him as a great person at this stage. That we will come to, much later and as the story runs it course.

In those hallowed halls and many rooms, lived the father the Brhamo Maharshi and his 15 children. The youngest of the children was Rabi (Rabindranath).

This story starts with Jyothirmoy’s marriage to a nine year old Matangini Ganguly of Jessore, the year being 1868. Carr, tagore and Co, which made fortunes with Indigo had collapsed and son Debendranath Maharshi was not a great admirer of the British. The family of Tagore’s were highly literate an even the women in the household were encouraged to delve deep into the Bengali literary world. But it was also orthodox in many ways and men married young girls, color was sacrosanct, as there is an instance of a young bride not being fair enough (Satyendranath (ICS)’s wife) being scrubbed daily with potions to make her fairer…That was the house where the child Robi was growing up and the home where the child bride Kadambari (Matangini renamed) arrived. Soon the two young kids stuck a rapport and Robi would be found often in the women’s quarters, with his playmate Kadambari. Robi took to her fancy and other women by reading Kalidasa’s works. But it was also a typical ancestral home where antagonism and back biting existed and ran akin to many of the TV soaps we see today. On the other hand, many of Tagore’s brothers dabbled in writing. The large home had a fair share of mental illness too, with two of Robi’s brothers spending much of their time in asylums.. I hope you are getting the hang of the place now.

Jyothirmoy, the most aristocratic product of the household was a fierce anti colonial person and even created a new dress which was part trousers part dhoti and wore a turban toupee even though it was banned. He was a born musician to his peers and many others who wrote about him, such as Rothstein and Satyajit Ray. He was an actor & director dabbling in theatre, and his debonair attitude was to cast in Robi’s life a companionship ‘as necessary to my soul…as the monsoon after a fiery summer’. Robi too was caught up with patriotism and read his poems at mela’s and participated in secret and public rallies.

As Krishna Dutta writes - During the 1870’s, a highly affectionate, teasing, somewhat childish relationship grew up between Kadambari, who remained childless and somewhat lonely, and the budding poet Rabi, especially after the death of his mother Sharada in 1875.”…..Whereas music drew him to Jyothindranath, with Kadambari, literature was the first bond. Kadambari seems to have read whatever Rabi wrote as soon as he wrote it…She would cook special dishes for him…Rabi says in his memoirs – My new sister in law could cook well and enjoyed feeding people. As soon as I came from school some delicacy made with her own hands stood ready for me. One day she gave me shrimp curry with yesterdays soaked rice, and a dash if chillies for flavoring and I felt that I had nothing left to wish for…that was his bouthakrun (young sister in law) ……and since then many of his stories have characters based on bouthakruns…

It was a special relationship, what they called in Bengal the Nothun botun – debar relationship which sanctioned a great level of intimacy but stopping somewhat before the border…

Tagore explains in a poem written in 1939..

Hesitantly I tried to come a little close
To her in a striped sari, my mind in a whirl
But there was no doubting her frown, I was a child
I was not a girl, but a different breed.

Soon the unwelcome intruder was an interesting visitor, and Robi started attending his mother’s gatherings in the terrace for the women of the household, making grand lectures and recitations of Ramayana in Sanskrit and translating them with some dollops of exaggeration to the amused ladyfolk. Strangely in that family of learned, Tagore was a loner with no formal education; he was considered a ‘good for nothing’ academically, flunking out of school very early.

So as we see, we come to the crossroads, when the boy was close to 14, and his mother died. Kadambari took over the additional role of mothering Robi. Rabi continued writing and Kadambari continued listening…with kadambari gently fanning the boy ‘s sweating brow using a hand fan..Tagore stated, There were no electric fans then and as I read, I shared the benefits of my sister in law’s hand fan..This was around the time they found names for each other, Rabi calling her He for Hecate and she called him Bhanu for sun. This was the pseudonym he used for a few years. Those early writings were not too good as people were soon to realize, Rabi too agreed in his own analysis of his early works. ..the sentiments in those books simply did not pass muster.

Life went on and Tagore was soon sent away to England to become a barrister. In preparation he spent time at his brother Satyandranath’s mansion in Ahmadabad where he read English books to sharpen his somewhat poor English. Soon he was off to London, but on arrival he hated the place and missed his home and sister in law. So by 1880, he was back in Bengal, studies unfinished, writing and singing and soon published his Bhagna Hriday which caught the fancy of the prince of Tripura who became his financial sponsor, this family continued to be his sponsors all his life. Why are we talking about Tagore, we were supposed to be talking about Kadamabri, right? You see, their lives were so intertwined all these years, she was always openly disapproving but then again Kadambari was the person Robi always wanted to please. Tagore dedicated his book Bhagna Hriday to Shrimati He…Kadambari. This was also the period when their relationship, the threesome’s that is to say was at its most intimate level. Jyothi and he were deeply involved in music, and drama and Kadambari an avid critic.

Dwarakanath, Tagore’s grandfather as we saw earlier, was an opium exporter. Rabi hated it and called the shipments the death traffic, and supported China who he believed was being destroyed by England. Little was he to know that the very same drug would play an even bigger role in his own life. But in the midst of this, Tagore was soon bound for London, but he cancelled it midway (1881). Instead he moved to Chandarnagore, part of French Calcutta with his brother and kadambari. Wandering around woods collecting berries and riding or swimming, Jyothirmoy, Kadambari and Tagore spent the summer at Morans garden. The brothers sang and composed, Robi wrote many articles and poems, during this trip. It was a peaceful idyllic sojourn, far from the hustle and bustle of Calcutta.

Something was happening between Robi and Kadambari during this period, we do not know any details, but we do know that she attempted suicide. Was Tagore trying to drift away? Was he enamored by other women? Or were they getting even more deeply attached? Robi perhaps tried to warn his brother at that time by writing a poem ‘Suicide of a star’. Gossip was increasing in the Jorosonko house and Robi soon moved to a house rented by his elder brother and away from his beloved Nothun Bouthen, to concentrate on writing.

The Nothun bouthen was anguished and close to losing her life, but why? Was it because Jyothirnath had no time for her? Was the platonic relationship between her and Robi changing to something else? Who was the instigator? Was Robi falling in love with Kadambari? That a certain level of intimacy is permitted between the debar and the nothun bouthan in Calcutta of the past is well known, but who drew the border? Did the border shift or did one of them cross it? Tagore as we saw, moved out of the family house to his brother Satyendranath’s (he had returned from UK) house. Why would he do that? Was life becoming difficult at Jorasanko (for him or Kadambari?)? He moved again with his elder brother to Karwar. Tagore was 22 then. In the meantime, the Jorasanko ladies including Kadambari started a lookout for a bride for Robi. Marriage was being discussed and he was soon involved in the match making, even checking out a girl in Madras. Rabi was on that occasion was enthralled by the more beautiful girl, who unfortunately happened to be the step mother of the rather ‘plain’ girl in the market.
One fine day he was summoned by his father and within days (Dec 1883) married off to a plain & illiterate child bride (but of the same Piralai caste as Dwarakanath had insisted) just 10 years old, named Bhabatarini, daughter of an estate hand. Rabi did not complain, he obeyed his father and sat impassively through the event conducted in his own house. Many of the family were not even present, even the father came a month later, presented four gold mohurs and departed. The brides name was changed to Mrinalini and she was immediately sent away to a convent school for studies & polishing. Rabi and Mrinalini did not live together for over a year.

Why was he married off to a lesser status house, that too in a hurry? Was it because he had earlier found the girls in England like Ana Turkhud attractive? Was it something to do with Kadambari? Was there something else wrong in Jorasanko? Why was Tagore not happy with the marriage? We have unfortunately no clues or facts to provide any answers. But we do know one thing, he wrote a set of poems in 1884, again dedicated to Kadambari, some days before his marriage while at his elder sister in law Jnanadanandini’s house. The song Rahur prem ..the song of bodiless Rahu in love with the moon and swallowing her occasionally in eclipse was probably one that precipitated the relationship with Kadambari. He wrote…

"From the very beginning of time, you have been my partner because I am your shadow. You could better see me in your smile and tears.... You will be surprised to see me gazing on your face in the pitch darkness when you are wrapped in a blanket of despair...

Wherever you turn, you will see me. My shadow will taper off to the sky but it will enshroud the whole world. My miserable voice and sinister smile will resound in all directions because I have an insatiable hunger... In short, I am a malady to your mind and body. I am the sword piercing your heart. Just as the night comes at the end of the day, I am behind you and that is your destiny". (from "Rahu"s love).

Some months later, on the 21st April 1884, Kadambari committed suicide by an overdose of opium. She suffered for two days before her eventual death. The mandatory suicide letter was destroyed, together with the coroner’s report and all her other letters and diaries. The expense for suppressing the facts & events was duly recorded in the family ledger, Rs 52.00.. With that Kadambari the enigma, vanished from this world, mysteriously…

Tagore was shattered, but he continued to write. Nashtanirh ( Charulata) was written after her death and like many other books earlier and later, dedicated to her. It is obvious that the book is a parallel of Kadambari’s life. Why did she kill herself? Robi? Jyothirindranath? Her own depressive suicidal maniac tendencies or was it the oppressive back biting at Jorasanko? Nobody really knows, for that matter it appeared that even Rabi speculated, though he may have known some aspects. There were a lot of rumors, including a possibility that the lady was pregnant and that due to this a huge scandal about to erupt, but it is just that, a rumor without any semblance of proof, for if it were the case, Tagore may have alluded to something. The shattered Tagore wrote

That there could be any gap in the unbroken procession of the joys and sorrows of life was a thing I had no idea of. I could therefore see nothing beyond, and this life I had accepted as all in all. When of a sudden death came and in a moment made a gaping rent in its smooth-seeming fabric, I was utterly bewildered. All around, the trees, the soil, the water, the sun, the moon, the stars, remained as immovably true as before; and yet the person who was as truly there, who, through a thousand points of contact with life, mind, and heart, was ever so much more true for me, had vanished in a moment like a dream. What perplexing self-contradiction it all seemed to me as I looked around! How was I ever to reconcile that which remained with that which had gone?

The terrible darkness which was disclosed to me through this rent, continued to attract me night and day as time went on. I would ever and anon return to take my stand there and gaze upon it, wondering what there was left in place of what had gone. Emptiness is a thing man cannot bring himself to believe in; that which is not, is untrue; that which is untrue, is not. So our efforts to find something, where we see nothing, are unceasing.

Just as a young plant, surrounded by darkness, stretches itself, as it were on tiptoe, to find its way out into the light, so when death suddenly throws the darkness of negation round the soul it tries and tries to rise into the light of affirmation. And what other sorrow is comparable to the state wherein darkness prevents the finding of a way out of the darkness?

One could speculate, One angle is that Jyothirnidranth was in deep debt, his stage activities and his business were floundering and he was perhaps involved in a fling with an actress (some letters were found in his coat pocket the day Kadam decided to take her own life). It is also known that Kadam was upset because Jyothirmoy would not take her for a party on the steamer. Then again, Rabi had drifted away by now, the threesome were no longer together and Rabi was living with his senior sister in law. He was no longer the Rahu waiting to envelop the moon. It is even said that Kadambari herself chose the unattractive bride from the estates hoping that Robi would turn down the proposal, but he accepted. Was it because of Robis’ entanglement with Ana? Finally, the childless Kadambari had previously adopted the youngest daughter of Swarnakumari, Rabi’s sister, but by late 1879, she died. By 1883, Kadamabari was sick, possibly suffering from deep and long bouts of depression, for which she had no outlet. And so, one day, she took her life.

Tagore recovered and continued to write and started Shantiniketan, and got deeply involved in his own world. Kadambari was forgotten at Jorasanko, but Tagore continued to include her in his writings. He had dreams and nightmares frequently of her and sketched faceless women, many alluding to memories of Kadambari. In fact Tagore even admitted to the artist Nandalal Bose when he was in his late seventies that it was Kadambari's eyes which lay behind the hundreds of haunting portraits of women he painted in old age. At one time, he even talked to Sigmund Freud and studied his works, to look into himself.

Kadamabari – ah the mystery lady…we know she loved poetry, music and literature, we know she read a lot, something not taken easily by the other women in the household and she cooked well, from what we know, bringing many new dishes to the household. The young Rabi was intensely jealous if she went away to visit relatives, but Kadambari handled him with much aplomb. She loved flowers and birds, it was she who converted the terrace to a garden and she who incessantly criticized him always, except his slicing of the betelnut, by doing it she perhaps kept his vanity in check as his poems brought him fame, little by little…but it was indeed a complex relationship which could never have ended ‘happily ever after’ for any of the three involved. Tragedy eventually struck Kadambari but that was to teach Tagore the essence of creation, that being pain….

That was Shrimati He, the Notun bouthan of Jorasanko. You can see her and feel her in Tagore’s poems, sangeeth and books. Read deep and you will perhaps find out more about her as Tagore intended.
Bandana Mukopadhyay sums it up very well…..As a central character of Tagore's personal life, Kadambari is all but forgotten, snuffed out for having committed suicide, disgraced for her indiscretion that she had dared to love unwisely, ignored for her socially unacceptable role in the making of a poet whose genius knew no bounds.

She was ultimately the one sacrificed and forgotten, in the midst of the people of Jorasanko searching for success and recognition.

Tagore survived, became stronger with the knowledge of grief and wrote prodigiously, but remembering his Nothun bouthen often…for she lived always, in his heart…..

References
Rabindranath Tagore Krishna Kriplani
Rabindranath Tagore: The Myriad-Minded Man - Dutta, Robinson & Desai
Selected letters – Tagore, Dutta, Robinson
Tagore – Sriparna Basu
Satyajit Ray: the inner eye Andrew Robinson
Tagore – Sisir Kumar Bose
Gateway to the life of Tagore – Chitralekha Basu – China Daily

pic - Kadambari - Telegrapgh India

Foundry Photojournalism Workshop 2012: Thailand!


Eric Beecroft, the co-founder of the Foundry Photojournalism Workshops, has just announced that it was ready to accept early registrations ($100 deposit, non refundable, and deducted from the total tuition amount) until January 15, 2012. Early registration guarantees a spot and precedence in the choice of instructor.

The 2012 Foundry Photojournalism Workshop will be held in North Thailand from July 29- August 4, 2012.

For regional students (South Asia-- India, Pakistan, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Tibet and South East Asia-Thailand, Burma, Vietnam, Phillippines, Laos, Cambodia,Indonesia, Malaysia) the tuition is $475. For all others it is $975 US dollars. Payment is via Paypal.

So spread the word via social network sites, Facebook, Twitter, etc.

On The Way To The 7th Angkor Photo Festival


I'll be traveling tomorrow to London for a brief stopover before flying off to Siem Reap via Abu Dhabi and Bangkok. I chose to fly Etihad, the Abu Dhabi airline, from London to Bangkok after hearing it offered an impressive flying experience in terms of comfort and service.

The festival itself is to take place in Siem Reap from November 19 to November 26, 2011. This well established event is the first photography festival held in Southeast Asia and for 2011, will exhibit the work of 110 photographers, out of whom 60 are from Asia.

The 2011 list of exhibiting photographers includes Andrew Biraj, Pep Bonet, Paula Bronstein, Marco Di Lauro, Tewfic El-Sawy, Siddharth Jain, Yuri Koryzev, Liz Loh-Taylor, Wendy Marijnissen, Erica McDonald, Palani Mohan, and many more.



On the subject of Cambodia and Siem Reap, I thought I'd re-mention To Cambodia With Love, a book published by Things Asian, illustrated with my photographs of Siem Reap.

It's described as "With its unique insights into dining, shopping, sightseeing, and culture, To Cambodia With Love is a one-of-a-kind guide for the passionate traveler."

It can be purchased from various online bookstores, and I believe the Siem Reap bookstores have it in stock.

I expect my posts might be irregular whilst traveling, but I'll try my best to update my readers with my gallivanting during the Angkor Photo Festival.

Kolkata Masala!



I apologize.

I know I've overdone it with all these recent posts (my work and those of others) on Kolkata, but having returned with a few thousand images from my Kolkata's Cult of Durga Photo~Expedition & Workshop™, I was bound to produce a number of slideshows...audio slideshows and still galleries. And since I'll be on my way in a few days to Siem Reap to attend the Angkor Photo Festival, I want to upload as many of my Kolkata work as possible before I travel. Of course, I still haven't rejigged my Durga Puja audio slideshow, but it will have to wait my return. So there's still that one for you to contend with.

The Kolkata Masala audio slideshow (this link is better quality than its Vimeo iteration) is a collection of color stills accompanied by the musical talent of a Baul singer. It's just a collection of pure and colorful travel photographs...so there's no linear sequencing or storytelling timeline.

There's no question that my favorite photograph is of the mendicants in front of a Jain temple, with one of them gesturing me to stop photographing. This, despite me having given her some biscuits that another charitable gentleman had given me for her. She wanted money, and only money.

Alice Smeets: Voodoo



I thought I'd continue my posts on photographic essays that deal with religious syncretism and feature the compelling work by Alice Smeets on Haitian voodoo.

Every year, thousands of Haitian pilgrims converge into the basin of Saut D'Eau's sacred waterfall to pray. They throw their clothes into the cascading waterfall where the faithful believe the Virgin Mary (known as Erzulie in Haitian Voodoo), appeared in the 1800s.

Haitian Voodoo was created by African slaves who merged their ancestral religious traditions with Roman Catholic practices, allowing them to continue observing their ancient beliefs under the scrutiny of the French colonialists. Today, many move freely between the two beliefs...the very essence of syncretism.

Alice Smeets is a photographer based in Belgium. She's interested in documenting social and cultural issues, with a special focus on Haiti and modern witchcraft.

Her clients include Geo, The New York Times, Sunday Times magazine, Le Monde, Internazionale, Days Japan, PBS, De Morgen, Glamour Magazine, ZDF. She has worked for charities like the Kindermissionswerk and UNICEF.

via Erica McDonald's DevelopTube

Ruben Salvadori: Tales Of A Ritual



Warning: Some Brief Scenes Are Graphic.

A village in the Southern Italian region of the Calabria region is the backdrop for an ancient ritual that is claimed to represent a people’s identity; an identity that struggles to keep its tradition unaltered through time.
"Tradition is the pump that pushes the blood of identity".
During the Holy Week prior the Easter celebrations, the village experiences an intense spiritual and practical preparation for a weekend ritual. The statue of the Virgin Mary is taken out from its shrine to take part in the ritual of Vattienti. These are flagellants who beat their legs with two pieces of cork, one of which has 13 fragments of glass in it,  and represent the sufferings of Jesus, and who must endure the pain of religious mortification in the name of spiritual cleansing.

Ruben Salvadori is an Italian photographer, whose biography tells us that he's to graduate with dual majors for a BA in International Relations and Anthropology/Sociology from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. He uses photography as an academic aid for his anthropological research, and mixes his academic background with a visual documentary-style approach to gain in-depth, empirical research results through his images.

Further information on the Vattienti:

This sacred popular custom centres around two figures; the “Ecce Homo” and the “Vattiente”, barefoot and tied to one another with a rope about two and a half metres long. The first wraps a cloth around his hips and holds a cross made of wooden slats covered in red bandages, as a symbol of blood and martyrdom; the other wears a black shirt with black shorts and a crown of barbed thorns on his head. Once they are dressed, the “Vattienti” rub and slap their calves and thighs with the “rosa”, a cork disk soaked in a warm rosemary infusion, in order to make the blood rise to their capillaries. They then use the “cardo”, another cork disk with 13 glass shards embedded in it, to beat the reddened parts of their skin. Rivulets of blood run down their legs, while red wine is poured onto their wounds to disinfect them and prevent fast clotting. Once they have marked the door of their house and those of their friends and relatives, as a token of good luck, each Vattiente goes to meet the Madonna Addolorata. This is the final climax of the rite when the flagellation reaches its height and becomes even more agitated and dramatic. (From Tour Calabria).

The Rickshaw Wallahs of Kolkata



Following my two weeks Kolkata's Cult of Durga Photo~Expedition & Workshop™, I have now completed two photo essays centering on the rickshaw pullers of that quintessential Indian megapolis. About half of the photographs were made using a Leica M9, while the rest with a Canon 5d Mark II. The audio was recorded with a Marantz 620PMD.

The first photo essay is an audio slideshow of about 30 black & white photographs of rickshaw pullers, supplemented by a soundtrack made up of Kolkata's traffic sounds, short narrative clips by the pullers themselves and live instrumental music played by Satyananda Das, a traditional Baul musician.

It can be seen either as a Vimeo movie (above) or as a regular SoundSlides multimedia, which is recommended because the quality of the photographs are much better, and are much larger.

The second photo essay is a gallery of still photographs... essentially the same as those in the multimedia products above, but the gallery is better suited for those who prefer to view them without any multimedia influence.

Documenting the rickshaw pullers was a secondary objective of the workshop, but was an important one. The government of Bengal had announced plans to completely ban the rickshaws, saying that the grueling work violates the pullers human rights, the argument was rejected by the rickshaw pullers with huge protests. Almost all of the pullers I spoke to were from the state of Bihar, one of India’s poorest states. Mohammed was one of those...an older man, a Muslim from Bihar with a dark bunion on his forehead from genuflecting five times a day. Past his prime, he said that he made about 400 rupees a day...the equivalent of $9 or so.

Having experienced first hand Kolkata's incredible 24-hour traffic jams, I believe those who claim that rickshaws are the only mode of transport who can circulate its narrow streets and alleys. The rickshaws carry business people, live poultry, school children, the sick to the hospitals, fruit to the markets, and even prostitutes. Without them, Kolkata could risk coming to a standstill, especially during the monsoon rains when roads can be impassable...and let's face it, Kolkata without the rickshaw pullers wouldn't be the same.

Many Kolkata intellectuals have said that while we can refuse on moral grounds to be carried by another human being, we have no right to take away their livelihood. There's also the hope that rickshaw pullers can be provided with an alternative employment.

New! Panasonic LUMIX DMC-GX1


Panasonic has just announced the Lumix DMC-GX1, which features a 16MP sensor, a maximum ISO sensitivity setting of 12,800, a touchscreen interface and a newly-engineered AF system. The GX1 is also the first camera compatible with Panasonic's brand new high-resolution LVF2 viewfinder, which is sold separately. These features puts the GX1 among the best performers in the Micro Four Thirds market.

According to dpreview.com, "Panasonic has provided the long-awaited spiritual successor to the highly regarded Lumix DMC-GF1."

The GX1 is available in a black or silver body with MSRP starting at $699.99.

Now I wait for a Leica Micro Four-Thirds model. I know...it's improbable for technical reasons perhaps, but one can hope. In the meantime, I think that Panasonic has a winner with this model.

Javier Arcenillas: Kolkata Sleepers

Photo © Javier Arcenillas-All Rights Reserved

Javier Arcenillas is a Spanish freelance photographer and a psychologist at the Complutense University of Madrid. He describes himself as a humanist, and develops humanitarian essays.

I chose an unusual subject out of Javier's photo essays; one that I personally witnessed whilst in Kolkata a few weeks ago...and that is of Kolkata residents sleeping in the outdoors largely because of poverty, or because they are migrant workers with families living elsewhere. My hotel room window looked over a side street, and waking up at dawn everyday gave me the opportunity of seeing dozens of people sprawled over thin blankets, cardboard boxes and the like. These were rickshaw pullers, vendors of fruits, hawkers and itinerant workers. During the initial days of my hotel stay, I reflected upon the lives of these people, and how difficult their lives must be.

Javier's Sleepers is a photo essay that really strikes a chord with me.

Javier has won a number of international prizes, including The Arts Press Award, Kodak Young Photographer, European Social Fund Grant, Euro Press of Fujifilm, INJUVE, Foto Press Third Prize, Luis Valtueña of Médicos del Mundo, Journalism Doñana´s prize, Luis Ksado, Make History, UNICEF, World Photography of the Year, Fotoevidence, Finalist of the Leica Prize 2009 and Antropography 2010.

Occupy Wall Street

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved

























More of my OWS photographs can be seen on The Leica File.

Yesterday morning was sunny in New York City, but it was cold in the canyons of Wall Street and its neighboring streets.  And yet, Zuccotti Park was full to the brim with the currently residing protestors, sympathizers from all walks of life, gawkers and tourists...and naturally the members of the NYPD, whose main function it seemed (at least when I was there) was to tell the onlookers not to block the sidewalk.

The atmosphere in the Park was jovial and collegiate. Reasonably clean, with the protestors expressing very friendly vibes to the sympathizers and tourists alike. It was not unexpected that a few weirdos were in attendance, but they weren't getting much attention. Photographers were a dime a dozen...pros as well as non-pros. Television crews were ambling about, trying to get footage that hadn't been done before. Two ladies were busy knitting woolen things for the OWS protestors, while a long and orderly line snaked to the tables where fresh and appetizing food was being served.

At one end of the Park, a lively group of protestors were drumming eclipsing the valiant efforts of a saxophonist, whilst a man was typing some manifesto on -inexplicably- a manual typewriter. A few American flags were hoisted here and there...and vendors seemed to be doing a brisk sale of commemorative lapel pins.

I was gifted a small Hohner harmonica by a protestor who urged me to attend some demonstration later on. Whilst walking around the part, I was accosted by a photographer who asked me if I was The Travel Photographer! It was Charles Meacham, a photographer I featured a number of times on this blog. What a small world! Since he had been featured for his excellent work on the Sikhs, I had assumed he lived in India...but he's from NYC as well.

Like many other sentient individuals, I sympathize with most of the OWS positions...however I fear that all this remarkable civic energy would be better expended in Washington DC. This is where the responsibility for our difficulties lie.

PS. The mellowness that I witnessed may not have lasted long. The NY Times has this.

The Hajj via PlanetPic

Photo © Fayez Nureldine - AFP/Getty Images

PlanetPic, the photography blog of Global Post, is the first of the main photo blogs to feature over two dozen photographs of the Hajj...and it appears it'll be updated as the religious pilgrimage progresses.

The Hajj (Arabic for pilgrimage) to Mecca, Saudi Arabia is the largest pilgrimage in the world, and is the fifth pillar of Islam, a religious duty that must be carried out at least once in their lifetime by every able-bodied Muslim who can afford to do so. More than 2.5 million Muslims are expected to perform the Hajj; a demonstration of the solidarity of the Muslim people, and their submission to God.

This year, the Hajj occurs from November 4th to the 9th. Although it's associated with the life of the Prophet Muhammad from the 7th century, the ritual of pilgrimage to Mecca itself is considered by Muslims to stretch back thou.sands of years to the time of Abraham.

One of the photographs shows a pilgrim shaving his head, and it struck me that the Hindus do the same during the Kumbh Melas, and during other religious rituals.

Syncretism? Perhaps...but the French saying of plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose seems to be appropriate.

Andrew Newey: Papua New Guinea

Photo © Andrew Newey-All Rights Reserved

Andrew Newey has been virtually everywhere. He is a documentary travel photographer based in England, and started travelling the world in his early 20′s, and went to college to study the craft, after which he went on a round the world trip to put the theory work into practice. He began his photographic career supplying landscape and travel imagery to the stock photography industry and now focuses on commissions, workshops and personal projects documenting traditional cultures around the world.

He was exhibited at the Royal Geographical Society in London for the 2010 Travellers’ Tales Festival. Some of his clients include Microsoft, Qantas, Bauer Media, Wanderlust, Thai Airways, The Sunday Times, Lonely Planet, P&O Cruises, Rough Guides, AA Media, Imagine Publishing, and Tesco.

Andrew has divided his website portfolio over three main galleries, and the images (although smaller in size than what I love to see) are extraordinarily colorful, and are unadulterated travel photographs. These range from Mongolia to the Mentawai Islands, from Laos to Nepal, from Morocco to Malaysia, from China to India, and from Tibet to Thailand.

Human Currents At The Rubin Museum

Photo Courtesy The Rubin Museum of Art



The Rubin Museum of Art is featuring an exhibition of images of the 2001 Maha Kumbh Mela by Swiss photographer Hannes Schmid. The exhibit appears (according to the pictures, as I have yet to drop by the RMA) to be extraordinarily well installed.  It's also an unusual set of photographs, as they're all closeups of crowds or groups of pilgrims...instead of the more exotic Nagas, sadhus, charlatans and mendicants that I vividly recall populated the Maha Kumbh Mela. I'm not sure what the intention of showing snapshots of crowds is, but it got Schmid an exhibit at the RMA....so perhaps I'm missing something here.


Human Currents is located in the RMA's Theater Level Gallery. Admission to the Theater Level Gallery is free of charge.


According to the RMA's press release, Schmid’s large C-print (ie Chromogenic color prints) photographs depict the enormous act of faith that was the Maha Kumbh Mela. The exhibit presents seven of these images, along with an accompanying video installation, that shows us the event's claustrophobic crowds, myriad colors, and frenetic energy of this greatest of Hindu pilgrimages. 
“Driven by an enormous religious power, there was absolutely nothing that could have stopped these pilgrims from fulfilling their vows.” -Hannes Schmid
The Maha Kumbh Mela occurred  from January to February 2001, when tens of millions of pilgrims converged in Allahabad, India for the festival, which was held only once every one hundred forty-four years. It was the largest gathering of human beings on earth, and saw devotees of all ages, castes, and classes from every corner of India. 


I remember being in my hotel room in Allahabad readying myself to photograph the Maha Kumbh Mela, and quickly turning off the television set because it was showing the inauguration of George Bush as President of the United States. It seems it was only yesterday but it wasn't. While I had serious misgivings about his presidency, little did I know then it'd be as disastrous.

iPad Compact Flash & SD Card Readers



Photojojo recently announced that it was selling iPad CF and SD Card Readers which are designed to quickly transfer images from a DSLR to an iPad.  These readers are to be plugged in the iPad, causing its photo applications to open, allowing the image files to be uploaded.


There are some caveats...the maximum capacity for the CF and SD cards is 4 gigabyte. The adapter will not work with any cards over 4gb, however it will allow you to connect the DSLR to its USB port, and directly transfer your image files (no matter how large the card is).

Is this enough for me to buy an iPad? No, not yet...but it's getting close.

Tomas Munita: Egypt's Discontent

Photo © Tomas Munita-Courtesy The New York Times

Tomas Munita's photographs of Cairo are dark, saturated, brooding and shadowy. One of them shows a couple of policemen peering through the rear window of a bus parked near a mosque in a Cairo tourist area...and to my mind, an analogy of the current situation in Egypt. Shadowy powers, whether military or otherwise, incapable or unwilling to act.

The accompanying article by Neil MacFarquhar paints a bleak picture of a revolution that, after having taken the world by storm, has now stagnated...and is seemingly going nowhere.

Paralyzed by the weakness of a caretaker government that takes its marching orders from the shadowy military rulers known as the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, Egypt's economy is heading nowhere...and that's a charitable way of saying it. Stuck in an outdated autocratic mindset, the civilian and military authorities are both unwilling and incapable of instituting any meaningful societal and economical change.

The article quotes Emad Shahin,a professor at Notre Dame University as saying “Egyptians said they had a leaderless revolution, and they were so happy about it then. They are now paying a price for that.” In theory, perhaps that's true.

I watch the unfolding events in Egypt as most others do...with dismay and sadness. All I see for the time being for Egypt is what we witnessed in Myanmar. A subservient "civilian" government controlled by a shadowy military institution, or an outright military take-over of the government. As the fable goes, a wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf.

Egypt deserves an infinitely better future.

But back to photography. Compare Tomas Munita's photographs to Jehad Nga's work (mentioned earlier on this blog).

Khari Baoli: The Porters of Spice



Khari Baoli is a street that runs from the Fatehpuri Mosque on Chandni Chowk to the western edge of the old city of Delhi, and is its wholesale spice market. Little has changed there for centuries. Enormous jute sacks of herbs and spices are brought to the wholesalers on long, narrow barrows or carried by porters. From ginger to chilies, from lentils and rice to jars of chutneys, pickles, nuts and tea...all kinds of spices and hers can be found here.

The market itself is on the south side of Khari Baoli, and was built by wealthy merchants in 1920s. It is now Asia’s largest wholesale spice market. It's an important and busy commercial district, and caters to the vast spice market of North India, including states of Jammu and Kashmir, Rajasthan and even as far as Madhya Pradesh, making it perpetually crowded with traders, and shoppers.

However, my focus was on the porters who carry the loads of spices from and to the market. Mostly from Rajasthan and Bihar, they're extraordinarily tough and strong.

Khari Baoli: The Porters of Spice can either be seen on Vimeo (above) or as an audio-slideshow (much better quality).

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